


Thaw

by Rivulet027



Series: Melt Series [3]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/pseuds/Rivulet027
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby and Jean-Paul come to an understanding. JP's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thaw

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the X-men, as they're Marvel's toy box and I'm merely playing. I'll return everyone when I'm done. The part about Bobby's father's heart condition is an idea I borrowed from the Iceman series from 1985. In the 2nd book in the series his father mentions being turned down to go to WWII because of a heart murmur. Obviously things have changed and his father is now a veteran. However it gave me the idea to give his father a heart condition (considering how old the man is, I don't think this is a too out there concept) because that would be a bit more of a reason for Bobby to try and keep his parents happy. I think that's the only reference I need to explain, I didn't really make many.
> 
> A/N:Many thanks go out to Meggles for the beta and general editing.

Jean-Paul:

I'm dreaming. I know I must be dreaming because only when I'm dreaming do I feel this calm. It's strange that the way I feel should be the indicator that this is a dream and not the fact that I'm sitting in a chair in the lawn reading a book that has nothing written in it, no that seems perfectly normal.

Hands go over my eyes and as with dreams I don't entirely loose sight, I can still see the book, I even feel his breath on my ear as he whispers, "Hey Handsome, guess who?"

Drake, it would be Drake, come to torture me during my sleeping hours since I can't have him during my waking. How perfect.

Irritated I tell him to leave, unsurprisingly he doesn't. Instead he drapes himself over me, hugging my chest as he looks down to see what I'm reading. He kisses my cheek, my neck.

"Robert, I'm trying to read."

"Really? I didn't notice," he murmurs biting my ear playfully.

I twist in the chair ready to tell him to go away and his mouth is on mine, the kiss I wanted that day at the van. I put my hands on his chest and push him away.

"Leave me alone."

"What's it about?"

I glance at the book in my hands and tell him wistfully, "It's supposed to tell me how to be happy."

He gives me one of those full on Bobby grins, the ones that usually make me want to kiss him, but at this moment I find it irritating as he pulls the book from my hands.

"It's empty," I inform him.

"Maybe you just need to write it," he says with this lopsided grin that I've only seen him use once and I'm still not sure why I found it fascinating. Maybe it's the way his eyes sparkled with mischief when he uses it.

"I already wrote a book," my voice sounds distant and unemotional.

"Maybe it's not that type of book," he informs me before tossing it over his shoulder and moving to kiss me.

I push him away, "I need my book."

I look past him and there's nothing.

"You're acting so strange today," he tells me against my cheek, "Besides you don't need a book. Let me make you happy."

"I can't have you." I'm surprised, I whisper it, but then his lips are on mine. I don't push him away instead I pull him closer, deepening our kiss, running my hands up his arms, pulling him closer as I…

…wake up.

I twist and punch my pillow with a growl. Non, this is not happening, over a week of these dreams. Typical, what I can't have has to haunt me in my sleep.

I glance at the clock, one o'clock, and I'm not going back to sleep. How unsurprising. I decide to take a shower, a cold shower, lately it has to be cold. I need to stop doing this to myself, perhaps I should go out, find someone to take my mind off this, force myself to stop dwelling.

For the first time in a long time I nearly wish for a mission to go on and I know I'm lost, wishing for the superhero gig is the last thing I need. When did I stop thinking of them as merely grim games of death? Trying to push the thought away, I dry my hair. Reflecting on myself at that age leaves me pondering my sister and as I am uncertain of her whereabouts it's a thorny subject. I worry for her, but a conversation with Logan had the old man convincing me that another haphazard trip around the world wouldn't solve anything. So instead I wait here for some word from Mr. Starsmore. It's more frustrating than my situation with Bobby.

Amazingly we've managed to avoid each other since that day at the van.

After my shower I dress and head downstairs. I briefly toy with the idea of getting something to drink, but as I've just brushed my teeth I decide against it.

Wondering if a movie or two could possibly tire me enough to allow me to go back to sleep, I head for the Rec room. Standing outside the door I hear the TV playing, a children's program, I go in with every intention of sending a student back to bed. I stop short when I realize its Robert. It would be Bobby, I can't get a single break today and the day hasn't even really started.

Then it hits me, it's Saturday morning, of course he's here. Typical, I wouldn't think of this being one of days when he has to be here as part of his job at the mansion. Terrific.

We stare at each other for a moment. Not breaking eye contact as I enter the room. I will not turn tail and run, this had to happen sooner or later. I was merely hoping it would be later.

He doesn't say anything, just looks away as he moves his feet so I can sit down on the couch. When I do he drapes his feet over me. I stare at them a moment, not quite sure if I'm pleased by this action or angered by it.

"What's this?" I ask.

"Nightmare Before Christmas. I'll restart it."

"No, leave it."

He glances at me, but doesn't utter another word as he set the remote on the coffee table. I let my hands settle on his ankles and am please when he doesn't protest. As I slowly begin to rub my thumb along his ankle he doesn't say a word nor does he move his feet away.

I've no intention of pay any attention to the bizarre monstrosity he's got on the TV. A dancing, singing, skeleton isn't my idea of entrainment.

Bobby is.

"I was supposed to show it to you anyway. It won't make much sense if you start watching it halfway through."

"It was my understanding that we dropped those plans."

There's a brief flare of anger on his face that I only catch due to the light from the TV, then uncertainty. He frowns at me a moment before reaching for the remote and restarting the DVD. I wonder if he'd be so eager to restart it if we'd have to wait for it to rewind. On the TV ghosts start singing about Halloween.

"We didn't have to," he tells me softly. I freeze up and am unsure as what to say. I don't move and the lack of movement has me realizing that I was still rubbing his foot.

"It was for the best," I explain, "watching children's programming wouldn't be my first choice of entrainment."

He pulls his feet away, obviously I said the wrong thing. He hugs his knees tightly to his chest, watching me quietly. Perhaps he simply didn't want me touching him.

Nonsense, if that were the case he wouldn't have touched me in the first place. Still I…

"You're just not watching the right stuff," he says, "A lot of programs have things for the adults in them. Have you ever seen Shrek? Or Monsters Inc.? I'm sure we could find something that you wouldn't mind watching with the kids."

"And why would I consciously want to spend more time with them then I already do?"

"Maybe you could watch them with me," there's underlying anger in his tone, "I like them. The shows I like aren't childish or stupid."

"That's not what I said."

"But it's what you implied."

I raise an eyebrow, "Is it? Are you sure that's what I was saying Robert or are you merely trying to put words in my mouth?"

He tilts his head and stares before saying slowly, "It's Bobby and don't turn this around onto me."

Then he turns and watches the TV. We both watch in silence for a moment , and I have to admit it's not as awful as I thought it'd be. He keeps sneaking glances at me, I'm about to ask what he wants when he apologizes. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"The other day."

I turn to look at him. He can't mean the almost kiss at the van. If there should be any apologizes they should be from me, but I don't do apologizes. I raise an eyebrow, "You mean that day at the mall?"

"Yeah," he says in what sounds like a wistful tone before tilting his head to watch the TV and then glancing at me again.

"It's already forgotten."

I wish it were.

He coughs before turning to stare, "What?"

I sigh. Does he really need me to explain it to him?

"I came onto you, obviously you don't feel the same way," I tell him before pausing, "I'm not even sure where I got the idea that you might be interested in other men, the point…"

I trail off as he blushes and grins nervously.

"I…well, there were kids…and…and…" he tails off and runs a hand through his hair before he says more quietly, "I've never done this before."

Great, now I feel hope. Trying to keep that under control I attempt humor, "You've never kissed anyone before?"

He laughs nervously.

"Or just not another man?" I continue.

"Once," he whispers so softly I almost don't hear it.

My eyes lock with his and it's my turn to stare. I can't be getting what I want. I never get what I want.

"Then why'd you stop me?"

"There were kids, like I said and I…come on Jean-Paul everyone would fucking kill me. Not to mention my parents," he pauses to stare at his hands and I have to swallow the retorts on my tongue, "I've already put them through enough with being a mutant. It's taken them this long to think that maybe I'm not really a freak and now I'm suppose to throw something else at them I, my…hell my Dad's wouldn't be happy if I…if I…"

He stares at his hands.

"So this is about your father's happiness and not your own?"

"He's got a heart condition and my Mom, if you upset her it's…it's like the cardinal rule of my family: don't upset Mom."

"Bobby, slow down. I can understand that, but what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you happy dating women?"

He laughs shortly, "Are you kidding? I suck at it."

"And men?"

"Um, well it was only that one time and it didn't go very far and…"

"Why not?"

"Ah…um…interrupted and I ah kinda freaked a bit."

Amazingly enough I have no desire to know who it was.

"Who were you thinking about more?"

He looks confused so I elaborate, "Yourself? Or how your friends and family would react?"

"Um the second one."

"Bobby, sometimes you need to worry about the first one before you think about the second one or…"

"I'll end up being miserable for the rest of my life?"

"Yes."

He gives me a small smile, a sideways one and I can't take it anymore. I move over a space and kiss him briefly pulling back, giving him time to dash all my hopes. I want him, even if it means being patient, and I am never patient. His reaction is a slight smile. His hands stir, than settle before he untangles himself from his legs and leans forward to kiss me. Annie was right, he's excellent. My hand settles on his cheek, his at the base of my neck.

Our seating only hinders us. I pull away and grabbing his legs pull him further down the sofa with every intention of laying next to or on top of him. His shirt rides up and we both freeze. Ice, a patch of it, almost see thru, nearly to his spine distracts me. He quickly sits up as he tugs his shirt down all the while babbling about second mutations and how I can't tell anyone.

I still his hands. He looks afraid now. Typical, he thinks I'll just toss him aside over one minor detail. Except that not too long ago I use to do that, and now I don't want to. What changed? How and more importantly why have I changed?

"I like the cold," I tell him. Not exactly the best thing to say, but as reassuring as I can get when all I can think about is getting his lips back against mine. His hand is caught in mine and his hazel eyes are boring into me, they haven't left mine since I first grabbed his hand. And then we're kissing again, desperately. Did I start this or did he? I can't remember, but I'm not letting go and if I wake up I'm destroying something. This has to be real, it feels too real to be anything other than the truth.

I push him back against the couch, under me. I've been kissing down into his mouth, but he pushes back, gets me to let him kiss into mine and I run my tongue over his before sucking slowly as he tries to pull out. He moans. It stuns me. I have the Iceman in my arms and he's moaning. I need this, I can't remember the last time I felt this good.

His hands are edging up under my shirt when there's a gasp from the doorway. It cannot be a child, it's far too early for one of them to be trotting down here to occupy Bobby with cartoons. We don't move and I bury my head against his neck as a voice tells someone to turn around.

"Huh? What? I thought we were going to watch a movie?" Paige's voice.

"It's Saturday, Bobby's already got the TV," Jubilee's voice.

"So, Bobby won't care if we…"

"Just turn around already."

"Jubes? What's going on?"

"Nothing, there are plenty of other TV's," she whines.

"Oh there's a really nice on in the…"

"I use to live here ya know?"

"But the one in the Rec room is better." Bobby's hands tighten around my shirt at that statement and he looks up at me slightly panicked. I start kissing his neck, they can leave.

"Well we can't go in there," Jubilee tells her in a stressed whisper.

"Why not?"

Jubilee growls slightly in frustration before hissing, "Because Jean-Paul's finally helping him with some of his issues!"

"Huh?"

"I'll explain later just come on," she whispers before saying in a slightly louder tone, "and we're going to keep our mouths shut too."

Paige giggles, "You don't know how to keep your mouth shut."

We stay tangled and unmoving a few moments after Jubilee drags Paige away amid a debate on whether the younger girl has the ability to be quiet about something.

Bobby's shoulder's start to shake and I look down at him in concern, which evaporates quickly when I see he's trying not to laugh too loudly. At least he's amused and not trying to run away from me again. Not that I'd let him get away this time.

"Issues?" I ask.

"Oh, I have tons," he reassures me as his laughter slows.

I raise an eyebrow. He smiles before pulling me into another kiss and convincing me that this isn't just a dream.


End file.
